


But, melt your headaches, call it home

by ElephantLoveMedley



Series: Nothing matters but you [4]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Comfort, Healing, M/M, Talking, Tattoos, USC Trojans (All For The Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23517919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElephantLoveMedley/pseuds/ElephantLoveMedley
Summary: Jean kept humming. "I think they believe I'm strange."Kevin kissed his hand. "You're not strange.""But I'm different. They're all so... smooth. I don't know, they just fit."(Or: Kevin goes to visit Jean, Jean gets a new tattoo and Jeremy is a good captain and a friend.)
Relationships: Kevin Day & Jeremy Knox, Kevin Day/Jean Moreau
Series: Nothing matters but you [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657633
Comments: 7
Kudos: 110





	But, melt your headaches, call it home

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> This one is a bit different and a bit longer. I'm sorry, but I just needed to process a lot of feelings.  
> These boys are keeping me a lot of company during this quarantine, they're soothing and healing and so so good to write about.  
> Hope you like this one, even if it's strange.  
> 💛
> 
> The translation for the parts in french is in the end notes and the song of the title is Northern Downpour by Panic at the disco.
> 
> P.s. if you catch some errors, please let me know.

Kevin used to spend a lot of time thinking about myths. He liked the stories his mum used to tell him when he was young, he liked Irish folklore: the rainbow, the pot of gold, the princesses turned in swans. He was afraid of banshees and kelpies, but he knew they were useful. 

When he grew up he fell in love with greek mythology. The myths were still dark at times, but, while the memories of Ireland were tinted with the loss of his mother, these new tales were covered in gold. He had dreamt once to climb mount Olympus and sit in the most beautiful palace, drinking ambrosia and holding his lover. He dreamt of eternity, a peaceful one. That was all he needed: he wasn't seeking happiness, not necessarily, he just wanted to feel at peace. With himself and with the world. He had thought that the first one would be easier, but he had discovered that forgiving the world was a much more simpler task than forgiving himself. He would get there eventually. He hoped. 

Kevin loved myths and the escapism that they gave him. He loved the tales and the heroes and he fantasized about Odysseus' journey, one day he would go back home too, no matter the hardships. He liked the poems, he loved Homer and Virgil and the pius Aeneas. He loved the muses and Apollo. He loved to follow the traditions from Greece to Rome and to the world. He loved Cupid and destiny. He loved the marathon and the Olympics. 

But Kevin knew that myths weren't just glitter and gold. Myths were tales made up by people to make sense of the world, that's why Orpheus lost Eurydyce and that's why Persephone had to live away from his love for six months every year. Myths were created to make sense of reality and reality was often cruel.

He had the possibility to shape the world, but even this possibility tended to bend under the pressure of cruelty and pure, unadulterated reality. 

That's why, when Jean called him and told him he wanted to cover his tattoo, he had been afraid of the concept. He had feared that Jean had let reality taint his retelling of the world. He feared that Jean hadn't been able to reshape the fabric of the universe and make it perfectly drape over his body. He feared that that fabric would hang more like the robe of a beggar, than the cloak of a king. 

Jean had proven him wrong naturally.

When he landed he was met with the scorching Californian sun. The beams glittering over his too pale scar, making it stand out. He knew the tan he would get with his days at the beach would make the contrast even harsher, but he was ready for it. He had never believed what people said: it wasn't the light the one who could reveal the deepest truths; he knew that darkness could make much more damage. 

Jean was waiting for him at the doors, Jeremy standing beside him, a pair of keys dangling from his fingers. They were smiling, Jeremy all teeth and dimples and Jean relaxed and at ease, like he couldn't quite believe he got to breath now. The Trojans' red complimented Jean's hair, made it bolder. It was longer now, healthier, and Kevin wanted to run his fingers through it; like back then, when they used to sneak out in the hallways and Jean would sing him songs, head in his lap and grey eyes growing heavy under Kevin's touch. 

He hugged him and Jean hugged him back. His duffel was digging into his shoulder, but he didn't care: if he could, he would never let go. 

He remembered Jeremy. He had never been impolite, rude yes, but never not polite. Kevin knew his manners.

He let go of Jean, patting his cheek once. He let his thumb brush over the bandaid. This was probably the last day of hiding for Jean. 

Jean smiled a bit, so Kevin let go. He half hugged Jeremy, thanking him for his kindness and generosity. Jeremy was his usual self and Kevin was glad to see that nothing had changed. It was exactly like on the court, it was familiar territory, he could do it.

It wasn't till they were all sitting in Jeremy's small green car that Jean started talking. "Tu m'as manqué, Kev."

Kevin glanced at Jean and then at Jeremy. He knew how he felt when the cousins left him out of conversations in German, he didn't want to do the same thing to Jeremy, but he still didn't want to disrespect Jean. 

"Pouvons-nous parler anglais?"

Jean held up his chin. "Vas-y."

Kevin nodded. "I missed you too, Jean." He glanced at Jeremy from the corner of his eye. "How are you?"

Jean shrugged. "Ça va. Ici c'est mieux."

Kevin glared at him. "Jean."

Jean just raised his shoulders. So, Kevin turned around. "And you, Jeremy, how are you?"

Jeremy smiled at him, clearly having understood the gist of the conversation. "I'm fine, Kevin. Thanks for asking." He glanced in the rearview mirror. "Jean is the best room mate."

Kevin attempted a smile at the back of the car. "Is he?"

Jean just scoffed. "Comme si c'était difficile."

Kevin turned around and just spoke to Jeremy. He had never liked coaxing Jean out of his rebellious streak. He understood, freedom tended to turn you sour when you didn't know what to do with it. It's like waiting your whole life for a change and, when it finally comes, you're too lost to even take a step.

But Jean wasn't lost. Kevin knew he wasn't lost, because he called him every night and sometimes in the mornings, he talked about practice and Jeremy and his classes, he talked about art and french poetry. Jean wasn't lost because Jean was brave, because Jean was getting a new tattoo, a moon. Jean had a new life and a purpose. He was heading in the right direction. 

However, Kevin knew how difficult it was to keep walking and sink into the sand with every step, seeing it rushing down beside your feet, hugging your knees, drowning your thoughts. Kevin knew how it felt to see the end, but feeling so far away from it. He knew what it meant to finally come ashore, leave the raft and make your way to the beach just to be brought back by the ocean with every wave. 

Kevin knew how it felt to know where you wanted to go, but thinking it meaningless at the same time. So many nights he had been awake with just a question in his head: why? 

He had been alone back then, but Jean wasn't and he would make sure he knew it was worth it. Everything was worth it: to finally walk the streets with your chin held high, not having to watch your back, to be your own person, to have your own passions, your own projects for the future. Kevin would make sure to never leave Jean alone in this, to always offer him a hand to stand back up, to walk together the few miles separating them from their destination. 

He just hoped that Jean would take it.

  
When they arrived to the dorms he was surprised to see all of the team waiting for him. The older ones just wanted to say hi, talk strategy, get some advice, while the younger ones just wanted to take a look at 2/4 of the perfect court, not knowing that that institution had fallen the day Kevin started being better. Best. 

Jean stood beside him the whole time, a comforting presence, but Kevin could feel the tension in his frame. His hands gripping too tightly on the strap of Kevin's bag, letting it slide against Kevin's neck. 

When they made it to the room, Jeremy let them be. He said he was going next door to Alvarez and Dermott. Kevin was grateful for his tact, he must have sensed Jean's discomfort too. They sat on Jean's bed and Kevin let himself slip into the comfort of French words and held hands. 

"What's wrong, Jean?" He was really concerned at that point, he couldn't make the images of this Jean and the one who talked to him every night on the phone match. "Do you not like it here? Do they treat you badly? Do I have to talk to coach?" He didn't say Dad, because this was Jean and no one better than him really knew what family meant. 

Jean held his hand and smiled. "No, I told you it's better here. They're my friends."

He stopped talking for a bit and Kevin took the time to look around the dorm. Jean's part of the room was clean, overly tidy, not a single thing out of place. It felt precarious. 

Jean huffed and slumped against Kevin's side. Kevin started stroking his hair. Just a few more centimeters and he could tie them up. Kevin thought he would like it: he loved Jean's hair, but he loved his eyes more, his face, his smile. He thought he would look good with his hair pushed back. He guided Jean till his head was in Kevin's lap and started stroking back the strands. 

Jean lifted a hand to the bandaid covering his cheek. "I'm just scared, Kevin." He peeled the bandaid off. "I'm scared."

"You don't have to be." He bent down to kiss the black number, he could see the faint outline of a tan where the bandaid would sit. "I'm here."

"You know damn well that you being present had never stopped his cruelty."

Kevin flinched. " **I'm** here. He can no longer touch us, no more. That's the difference." He sighed. "And you know I would have stopped him. You know I wouldn't have permitted it. You know..." His voice faded to a whisper. "You have to know."

Jean took his hand and kissed the soft spot just under his thumb. He sighed. "I know." He turned his palm back up, kissed the silver scar. "I would have done it too."

Kevin loved just being in silence with Jean, it felt so peaceful. This way soft touches and delicate hands meant more. The soft words of Jean lullabies always came as a surprise after silence. 

"You said they let you sing."

"They do."

"I'm glad."

Jean kept humming. "I think they believe I'm strange."

Kevin kissed his hand. "You're not strange."

"But I'm different. They're all so... smooth. I don't know, they just fit."

"You're smooth, too."

Jean propped himself up on one elbow to stare into Kevin's eyes. "We're not smooth, Kev, we're polished. That's different." He gestured vaguely to the door. "They are natural, we're like..." 

He fell back down, grabbing Kevin's hand and guiding it back to his hair. Kevin obliged. 

"Sometimes I think there's not an inch of instinct left in my body. Just calculations, patterns. I feel like there's no depth, just black or white, no other colour in between."

"You have to give it time, Jean."

"What if I don't have it?"

Kevin stilled his hands then, holding his chin high and away from Jean's gaze. "Don't say things like that." His voice sounded harsh even to his own ears. "Please."

Jean just took a deep breath, nothing more.

"Don't even think about things like that."

"And you? You can?"

"You know damn well I try not to. Just keep trying."

"I'm tired."

Kevin rearranged their limbs. "Let's sleep, then." He trapped Jean between him and the wall, leaving the blinds open and holding on to his chest for dear life. He wouldn't let him go. 

Jean let himself be lulled to sleep by familiar words and a thick accent. He loved that accent.

Jeremy found them like that some hours after. The sky was rosy and painted in golden light, Kevin wanted to show it to Jean, let him look at all the colours that stood between white and black; but waking Jean would mean disrupt an apparently nightmare-free sleep.

"I'm sorry. I tried to knock but no one replied, I came in just to check on you. Everything's alright?"

Kevin stretched his back. "Yes, thank you."

Jeremy nodded, then looked at Jean. "Do you want to eat something?"

Kevin put an hand on Jean's shoulder.

"No, don't wake him." Jeremy hissed. "He needs some rest."

Kevin looked at him. Perplexed, worried, a bit guilty.

Jeremy just sighed. "I wanted to talk to you."

Kevin tried not to worry too much while he slipped out from under Jean's weight, he tried not to worry while he covered him with a red blanket and he tried not to worry while he kissed his forehead, brushing back his hair. Jeremy was still standing there, his face settled between an expression of concern and puzzlement.

They went to the kitchen.

Kevin stood beside Jeremy during the whole process of him making dinner. 

"You know, he does that too."

"Uh?"

"Jean. He controls what I do with the food. I don't mind, it's just a bit..." He trailed off, continuing to chop their vegetables. 

"Different?" Kevin echoed Jean's words. 

Jeremy looked relieved and guilty at the same time. "Yeah, but different is not bad."

Kevin nodded. "I know."

They relapsed to silence and stayed like that till their plates where on the table and Jean's one was waiting on the counter. 

"He's not really adapting, Kevin. Sometimes it feels like he's here only physically." 

Kevin frowned. "Maybe he's not adapting, but he has improved."

Jeremy poured him some water. "We're a team, Kevin."

"The foxes had never needed to get along."

Jeremy looked at him. "That's why you sent him here."

"I didn't 'send' him."

"You wanted better for him. You told me. And I'm trying, Kevin, I'm really trying, but I don't think it's working. Sometimes it feels like he's defiant too." 

"You have to push him, then."

Jeremy raised his voice. "I can't."

Kevin matched his tone. "Why not?"

"I don't know where the limits are. What if I push too much? He's all uncharted territory, every time I take a step I don't know if I'll land on a mine or a flower. He's good, Kevin, I can see he's good. I just can't see the difference between making that good come to the surface or letting it sink."

"You couldn't push him too much. Do you know what he has been through? You're not the person who could make it worse."

"That's the problem, Kevin. I know nothing. What if I do the only thing I shouldn't?" Jeremy looked agitated, alarmed too.

Kevin looked him in the eyes. "Listen, Jeremy, I asked him if he wanted to come here because I trust you, you're a good person and I know you don't have it in you to be cruel. He's just stubborn, I was like that too, but I had Andrew."

Jeremy huffed. "And look-"

"No, stop, please. Listen. I don't want you to be harsh or cruel with him, I want you to treat him like part of the team, like a normal person. Because he is, Jeremy, and the sooner you begin treating him like that, the sooner he'll look more like one." Kevin sighed. "I know I was insufferable for the first period. I know he's stubborn, but I'll talk to him. I just need someone to guide him, because right now I can't do it. I'm not here."

Kevin stopped, because Jeremy looked like he couldn't believe those words. 

"Just don't coddle him, Jeremy. He has never needed it, he'll respect you more if you show him you're reliable. He'll trust you if he believes you can protect him." Kevin really looked at Jeremy, then. "He's the most dangerous person here at the moment, what good can you do if you can't even stand up to him? He won't trust you with what he thinks has to come."

"I don't want to stand up to him. I don't want to fight."

"You don't need to fight. Just be a little bit firmer."

Jeremy huffed. "I don't think you know what's going on."

Kevin rubbed a hand on his face. He sighed. "I don't think either, but I know what helped me and I know him." He looked at Jeremy. "You have to trust me, have patience, wait for a bit and if it doesn't work then we'll think about another solution, but give him a chance. Please."

"I'm already doing it."

"Talk to the team, there must be someone a little more hot headed, someone brave that he can latch on to. Just for a bit, until he unlearns how to travel in pairs."

" **I'm** brave." There was a spark in Jeremy's eyes, it looked like defiance. It was what Kevin needed: if he couldn't get angry at Jean, he could get angry at Kevin. He didn't care. Misplaced purpose was still purpose. 

"Then show him."

  
When Kevin went back to the room, Jean was still sleeping. He woke him up with the excuse of dinner and passed him the plate.

Jean accepted it, a bit reluctant. "Did you make it?"

"No, Jeremy did. But I watched him."

Jean nodded and started eating. 

Jeremy came into the room after his shower and Kevin used that time to go to the bathroom. He put on his pyjamas and waited for Jean to get changed and ready for bed, again. Jeremy stared at him the whole time, Kevin hadn't wanted to mess their friendship up. He cared about Jeremy, he appreciated him and what he was doing. 

"I'm sorry. You know, if I could, it would be me instead of you to try and help him."

Jeremy was already laying under the covers. "I know, Kevin. I know everything, why we're doing it. I agreed to it, I believe in it. I know it's better if he grows into his own person away from you, I know it's better for you too, but it's frustrating." He smiled. "The only way you can see him is if you're there too, you don't notice the difference. I don't know what's going on between you two, but you're valuable to him. He's much more at peace when you're here." Jeremy gestured to Jean's bed. "Like right now, you don't know how many times I tried to make him take a nap. He doesn't sleep at night, but he just won't listen." Jeremy sighed. "This just makes me realize how much road we still have ahead, till the day when he'll be this relaxed on his own."

"It takes time, Jeremy."

"You keep saying that." 

"Because it's true."

"I know, I know. Just..." He lifted his head to take a better look at Kevin. "I don't know, make these few days the best you can. Let him have something to look forward to."

"I'll try."

"I'll try, too."

"Thank you, Jeremy."

Jeremy sighed. "It's the right thing."

When Jean came back, Kevin held him tight against his chest. They were sleeping skin to skin and he had never felt more connected to a person in his life. Their scars glittered in the moonlight, but while Kevin's were silver, Jean's were still rosy. They looked like they hurt, so Kevin tried to kiss them all, wishing away the pain he couldn't reach. Jean just laid there, with his hair pushed back and his eyes fixed on the sky, holding onto Kevin and singing to the moon. The room was quiet, except for the faint notes of Jean's song. It sounded like a prayer.

Kevin understood why Jeremy thought him strange. He knew they were unusual, but laying there, under the golden stars, wrapped under red sheets, he couldn't help but smiling. Jean was strange, he was unusual and untamed, but he was Kevin's soulmate. And Kevin was his. 

How ironic, he thought, the gods had separated soul mates because they were too powerful to be a single being, cursing humanity to wander the earth in constant research of their half, and Kevin and Jean were here. They were holding each other, no forces pushing them back, fighting to be their own person. 

How ironic. Maybe you were forced to wander the earth before meeting your soul mate, because you needed the time to grow, to fill your frame. 

Maybe soul mates weren't born as two halves of a whole, maybe they grew into it and, while everyone had had time to reshape their hearts, to make them more fitting to the one of their half, Kevin and Jean had been forced together since the beginning, meshing together, like the torn edges of an open wound. 

Maybe there was a scar on their matching hearts and that's why it was all the more painful when they had to part. Scar tissue straining at the edges, biting into red flesh, searching for blood. 

Kevin fell asleep with his hand on Jean's chest, counting his heartbeats and listening to his songs. 

How ironic, he thought. 

  
When they woke up the next day, Jeremy had already left. A post-it note on the fridge told them that he had to go to Rhemann. They cooked breakfast together and ate it at the counter, leaning on each other and shivering in the morning breeze. Jean looked rested and in a better mood.

"Ready for your tattoo?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't ready for the last one. I don't think it makes a difference."

"Not for the pain, for the idea."

"I knew what you meant." He hid his face in Kevin's neck. "You're here, I'm sure, I looked at the moon tonight and nothing had changed. I'm okay."

Kevin kissed the messy hair at the top of his head. "I was drunk for mine."

"You told me."

"I don't regret it."

"I won't either." Jean straightened his back and held his chin high, the few centimetres that separated them felt like an ocean. He always tended to forget about Jean's height, it wasn't relevant in the grand scheme of things. Now it felt imperative, the only thing that mattered: Jean standing tall against the world. "I'm sure."

Those words could convince Kevin to wage a war against the universe if Jean wanted to. To tame chaos in an orderly shape. He would walk the depths of the sea for Jean, he would slain dragons and besiege cities. Jean just had to speak his wish and Kevin would oblige. 

They were just two boys, standing barefooted in the morning light of the Californian sun, eyes red rimmed and hearts scarred. They were just two boys, but they could move armies.

Jean had shown him the secret drawer where he kept everything, Renee's sweatpants, Kevin's book under a pair of Trojans' red shorts, the tidy surface just a way to mislead curious eyes. That morning they had took it out of his hiding and Jean had placed it on his shelves, Alexander's life adorning his scarce room. 

It was just a book for the majority of people, but for them it was hope: it was escapism in the nest, it was Kevin's future, it was Jean's will to see him again and, now, it was trust. Trust in the Trojans, in Jeremy. Trust that whatever Jean showed, whatever Jean loved, it wouldn't be taken away. No one would take it away. 

It was there, in the middle of the room, under the beams of the rising sun, and it still didn't feel like freedom, but it soon would. 

Kevin kissed Jean's temple and tugged on his hand, leading him away, taking a step toward the future.

  
They walked all the way to a small tattoo parlor, shoulders knocking together and curious smiles grazing their lips. Jean was excited, Kevin could see it: it was in his eyes, in the way he hummed under his breath, in the fleeting touches to Kevin's arms and shoulders to point out details of this free new life. Kevin was smiling like never before, he couldn't believe he finally got to have this. He thought that this was what Mount Olympus would feel like. Jean was beaming and Kevin's world reshaped itself, just for a minute, for a moment, turning on his axis and entering Jean's gravity. Kevin was pulled in by him, like the syrens with Odysseus, the only difference was that Kevin was sure that his ship wouldn't crash; Jean wouldn't permit it. 

The tattoo parlor was small and tidy, the artist was a nice girl with pink hair and the brightest tattoos Kevin had ever seen. Jean was entranced by them, he could see it. They introduced themselves, she didn't recognize them and Kevin was grateful for that. She didn't ask about the matching position of their tattoos, she just focused on Jean. 

She let him watch every step of the process, how she prepared the machine and how she cleaned it. In a matter of minutes the outline of a small rising moon was painted on sharpie on Jean's cheek. Gabby, the tattoo artist, let him take a look in the mirror, waited patiently for his answer and passed a pack of tissues to Kevin, smiling. Kevin dried Jean's tears.

"They're from happiness, Kevin."

"I know." Kevin said. "You never cry for bad things."

Jean hugged him. "I'm ready." He nodded at Gabby. "I'm ready."

She kept smiling at Jean, like she knew what he was feeling. And maybe she was. 

She asked questions and never let silence settle in the room, Kevin was a mere spectator, but he felt fine like that: it was Jean's moment. He listened to Jean explain again why he chose the moon, he thought he would never get tired of it.

"And it's the rising one, because I'm just at the beginning."

She hummed. "That's true, we have all the time in the world." And pointed to a spiralling clock on her shoulder. "But sometimes we just have to let time go by."

Jean smiled. "We have to give it time."

She finished wrapping the new piece and explained to Jean how to take care of it. Kevin paid for it and they headed out of the shop, Jean thanking Gabby and Gabby telling him to feel free to come say hi to her. Jean nodded and it was enough.

They went to the beach, Jean's face hidden under a baseball cap to avoid exposing his new tattoo to the sun rays. 

"I'm happy, Kevin."

Kevin beamed at him, shoes held in his hand and feet moving through shallow water. "I can see it, Jean."

They hugged then. Jean's cap knocking on Kevin's forehead and Kevin's shoes getting sand all over Jean's t shirt. 

"I'm happy for you too, mon trésor."

They stayed on the shore for a bit, until the sun was too high and Jean's snapback did nothing to keep his tattoo safe. They went back to campus and took care of it, washing and rewrapping it.

They walked to the court after. Kevin wouldn't ask Jean to play, he knew it was just a job for him. They just stayed there, chatting to Rhemann and Jeremy. Jean looked more open, not overly chatty, but not even resolving to french. Kevin was pleased.

"You did well with them, you should try to act more like that with Jeremy." They were walking back to the dorm, hands occasionally brushing together. 

"I don't really trust him."

Kevin stopped him, this was a conversation that was meant to be had sitting down. He laid on the green grass of the campus, Jean looking down at him, a bit reluctant. 

Kevin patted the spot next to him and Jean caved, folding his long legs and adjusting his t shirt. "He's too kind."

"Renee's like that too, but you trusted her. You still do."

"But Renee hasn't always been like that. She decided to be." He scooted over till his head was on Kevin's lap. 

Kevin took his snapback off and started brushing his hair, letting it tangle on his fingers. "And so? Isn't it the same?"

Jean huffed, struggling to find the words. "It's not the same, because he didn't decide to be kind, he just is, and that means that there could come a day when he would change his mind." He closed his eyes. "And we all know that amongst the team I am the one most likely to push him in that direction."

"That's nonsense, Jean. Jeremy would never hurt you. I know he wouldn't."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Doesn't Renee choose every day to be kind? Don't you choose to keep trying? Don't I choose to be more open?"

"Yes, but-"

"No 'but', Jean." He resumed his movements. "Mon trésor, doesn't Jeremy choose every day to not change? To keep being kind?"

A bit of silence.

"Couldn't it be?"

There was small nod from Jean. 

Kevin went on. "We're all trying and we decide every day to keep trying, because it's difficult, but it's worth it." He brushed his fingers over the plastic covering Jean's tattoo. "Like the moon decides to keep rising, but occasionally will falter, so do we. That's what me and Renee are here for, to lend a hand, and I think that Jeremy would be happy to be here too. All of them." He kissed Jean's cheek. "You just have to let them in. Not all at once, slowly, but surely. And if you want you can be there for them too." He moved his hands under Jean's eyes, forcing his gaze up to him. "You're good, Jean. I know you're good, everyone can see it."

Tears were rolling down Jean's cheeks for the second time that day.   
Kevin caught them, for the second time that day, smoothing them out with his thumbs. 

"You're good, Jean. I assure you. Can you see it?"

Jean nodded and let the tears fall, dampening Kevin's shirt. 

He could see it.

**Author's Note:**

> It wasn't till they were all sitting in Jeremy's small green car that Jean started talking. "I missed you, Kev."  
> Kevin glanced at Jean and then at Jeremy. He knew how he felt when the cousins left him out of conversations in German, he didn't want to do the same thing to Jeremy, but he still didn't want to disrespect Jean.  
> "Can we talk in English?"  
> Jean held up his chin. "Go ahead."  
> Kevin nodded. "I missed you too, Jean." He glanced at Jeremy from the corner of his eye. "How are you?"  
> Jean shrugged. "I'm fine. Here is better."  
> Kevin glared at him. "Jean."  
> Jean just raised his shoulders. So, Kevin turned around. "And you Jeremy, how are you?"  
> Jeremy smiled at him, clearly having understood the gist of the conversation. "I'm fine, Kevin. Thanks for asking." He glanced in the rearview mirror. "Jean is the best room mate."  
> Kevin attempted a smile at the back of the car. "Is he?"  
> Jean just scoffed. "Like it's hard."
> 
> Mon trésor = treasure (literally "my treasure")


End file.
